


Sheer

by WhoopsOK



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Crossdressing, Frottage, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Stockings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsOK/pseuds/WhoopsOK
Summary: They’re silly, cartoony things, with animal faces landing above the knee; made to be worn under miniskirts and hot pants. Neil has no desire to wear either of those items, but for some reason he thinks about how they might look on him and it—it tickles him? It feels stupid and childish and he wants that.(Neil buys some novelty stockings. His boys are big fans, in different ways.)
Relationships: Matt Boyd/Neil Josten, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 14
Kudos: 164





	1. Intro: Neil Buys

**Author's Note:**

> Idk what it is about Neil, but a lot of people like to have him explore femininity and hell if I’m not one, I guess.
> 
> Also, yeah, I know stockings/tights/pantyhose aren’t all the same thing, but I legit can’t ever remember which is which and I doubt Neil would know so [hand waving].
> 
> Sort of a sequel to [Bench Warming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17358164), but it's not mandatory reading!

It’s a stupid impulse.

Neil has spent all his life ignoring just about every impulse he could possibly feel, choking it back before anyone could beat it out of him. He is more than used to living without indulging in any frivolous desires, but all of one year with the foxes and his metric for what he’s not allowed to have is all out of whack. A year and he’s finally coming to realize he’s allowed to have pointless things. He may even be coming to a point—thank you, Bee—where he can acknowledge that things that make him happy _aren’t_ pointless.

The clearance tag says they’re on sale for three dollars, that’s what he gets stuck on. Because he doesn’t think he has any proclivities towards cross dressing, but the stockings have caught his eye for too long for him to ignore. They’re silly, cartoony things, with animal faces landing above the knee; made to be worn under miniskirts and hot pants. Neil has no desire to wear either of those items, but for some reason he thinks about how they might look on him and it—it tickles him? It feels stupid and childish and he _wants_ that.

…And, hey, they’re only three bucks. If this turns out to be a fickle impulse, it’s not like he’s exactly strapped for cash. He grabs a package.

On second thought, he grabs two.

They’re paid for and shoved into the bottom of the bag before Allison even comes out of the dressing room.

Secrets that don’t feel dangerous are a marvel to Neil.

They’re not so tightly held, not so heavy on his mind, just there to entertain himself with. Standing in the dorm bedroom, he puts his clothes away without much thought, but leaves the packages of novelty tights on the bed. The cellophane crinkles as he pulls it off and folds it into the cardboard packaging and shoves both into the bottom of the trash with a tinge of baseless paranoia. They look so odd and unassuming in his hands, wrinkled with the pink bunny faces on either knee. Glancing at the door, he figures he has at least long enough to try them on before anyone should get back to the dorms. At the very least, he could jump into a pair of sweats before anyone got in the bedroom.

Stepping out of his briefs and into his tights leaves his skin crawling which…is not a sensation he would normally describe as pleasant. Maybe skin crawling isn’t the right expression, but the fabric does feel weirdly _tickly_ ; like compression wear that doesn’t quite _compress_. He finds himself squirming and almost wanting to laugh as he pulls up the flimsy fabric, adjusts it around his thighs and— _fuck_ , it feels weird on his dick. He twitches as the edge of his hoodie shifts around his hips giving him goosebumps. When he takes a step, feeling the tingles of his hair up and down his legs, it’s _weird._ When he touches his legs, it seems like even temperature comes through funny, like his hands are hotter and the moment he moves away the breeze feels almost icy.

The bunnies are a little higher than he thought they’d be, resting around his mid-thigh. He watches the fabric stretch around his muscles as he goes up on his toes, flexing as he twists this way and that. He turns his leg out to look down at his own ass. Neil doesn’t often think about himself in terms of sexy or not. He gets it going for some people, he knows, but he doesn’t look at himself like that. And yet he can’t help but wonder, as the almost completely sheer seat of the stockings leaves just about nothing to the imagination, if this is a good look for him. He flexes again, reaches down to palm his ass, goosebumps popping up in the hot-cold wake of his hands.

Of course, that’s when Andrew walks in.


	2. Andrew Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunnies for Andrew

Neil freezes, but does a pretty good job of pretending he’s just looking up. “Hey.”

Andrew doesn’t say anything for long enough that Neil starts to feel self-consciousness creep up the back of his neck. He lets his hands fall casually to his sides, turning to face Andrew head on. He looks like he may be considering turning right around and walking back out, but his gaze slides up Neil’s legs to his face, not quite as bored as he could be.

“Who bought you those?” he asks eventually and Neil can’t figure out what the question is _actually_ asking. He figures it doesn’t matter, he wouldn’t lie either way.

“I bought them for myself,” Neil says, looking down at them again. It’s just as surreal as it was a few moments ago, seeing his legs obscured in pastel pink. He swallows. “Can you shut the door?”

The door clicks shut with Andrew inside and it’s the answer to a question Neil hadn’t yet thought to ask.

There’s a moment where he considers asking if Andrew minds, but it’s not the kind of question Andrew would appreciate. No matter how stupid he may think it is, he’s very firm on Neil’s body being his. They aren’t Andrew’s legs to decorate one way or another. It’s not like Neil’s going to exactly be wearing these out anywhere. Probably.

Still, he does want to know what Andrew thinks of them. He rocks back on his heels, rubs his thighs and doesn’t suppress the weird urge to turn his leg out when he lands flat again. He feels a rush of heat when Andrew’s eyes blow dark, a minute tic crossing his jaw.

“So?” Neil asks, because it’s about all he can get out. Seeing arousal on Andrew’s face will probably never cease to be novel to Neil, because he knows it’s an allowance every time. He could hide it. With Neil, he doesn’t bother.

The thin fabric hides exactly nothing, so Neil isn’t really in a position of judgment. Andrew still asks, “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil answers, swallowing when Andrew shoves Kevin’s desk chair under the doorknob before striding forward.

“Hands above my shoulders,” Andrew says before kissing the breath right out of Neil’s lungs.

Neil grips the back of Andrew’s shirt and winds his other hand up so he can grip the hair at the nape of Andrew’s neck, getting a short stumble of breath. It seems to stumble right into Neil, leaving him gasping when Andrew’s hands slide down to his ass. He jerks, squirming at the new sensation, heightened by flimsy fabric. “ _Yes,_ ” he whispers before Andrew can even pull back properly, the word slurred between their lips. Andrew’s grip firms up and he drags Neil forward until his arousal is pressed into his hip.

“I want to blow you,” Andrew growls after a moment and Neil lets out a harsh breath.

“I want you to blow me,” he replies as steadily as he can manage. There’s a flash of cool air that makes him shiver when they separate.

Andrew presses him back until he’s up against the dresser, holding himself up on the edge until Andrew stops kissing him long enough to shove the end of Neil’s shirt up. Neil catches it instinctually, heart pounding as Andrew sinks to his knees. This time around, Andrew’s eyes skip over the swell of Neil’s arousal and down his legs, with the kind of casual blandness that actually implies vested interest. He watches unflinchingly as Neil squirms and pants in response to Andrew rubbing and tickling his legs; it’s making Neil _leak_. The stockings tear when he scrapes his nail’s down the front of Neil’s thighs. For a brief second, Neil feels the flash of annoyance he’s seen on Allison’s face when her stockings run, but far off and mildly. Andrew is touching him, he can’t be bothered to care about more than that especially not once Andrew gets his mouth on him.

The hot-cold flash of Andrew’s tongue over the fabric is intense enough that Neil can’t hold back a low groan that Andrew returns encouragingly. Neil takes the cue, threads his fingers into Andrew’s hair. Eventually, Neil causes another rip in the stockings in his haste to get them out of the way. Andrew’s thumbs dig into his hips in warning, but he does swallow Neil down to the root, doesn’t let up until he comes with a broken cry.

Slumped back against the dresser, Neil takes a moment to blink the spots out of his eyes before he says, “Can I—?” He stops, because he means to ask if he can touch Andrew, but his desire is more specific than that. He hasn’t given head before, not yet, but wants to try with a level of intensity that shocks him. Andrew raises his eyebrows at the pause and he continues, “Can I try, too?”

Andrew’s breathing stalls and Neil stays quiet while he thinks.

"I need to keep my clothes on," he says eventually.

Neil tries not to go too bright eyed. "Okay," he answers agreeably. He takes a second to decide to pull his ruined stockings back up instead of pushing them the rest of the way off. Andrew takes a slow breath as it happens, but doesn’t look away from Neil’s eyes as he sits on the bed. He swallows—several times in quick succession—when Neil gets to his knees in front of him.

“Can I touch you?” Neil asks softly. Waits several strained breaths for Andrew’s nod, almost like he’s dizzy. Neil wants to make him feel good so badly he can hardly breathe. “Where?”

“Above…” Andrew’s jaw clenches like he’s frustrated by what he’s about to say, but Neil just nods at him. “Above the clothes except my cock.”

“I can do that,” Neil says over the little ripple of arousal that sends through him. He shuffles forward until he’s between Andrew’s knees. “Or we can wait, I don’t—”

“It’s still a yes,” Andrew interrupts and Neil takes the hint. The consent is freely given; the emotional logistics are the hard part.

“Tell me if that changes,” Neil says and sees Andrew consciously decide not to snap at him for it.

“Okay.”

Andrew’s thighs jump under Neil’s hands as he rubs him over his jeans, waiting until Andrew starts to look impatient before he even moves to his fly. He’s hard and the front of his briefs is slightly damp and Neil’s mouth may or may not be watering. He kisses the bulge there, drawing a sharp breath above him. There haven’t been many opportunities for Neil to get a complete, long look at Andrew’s dick and he feels greedy for it. He doesn’t want to stare long enough to make it A Thing, but _fuck_ , he’s just—it’s _Andrew’s_ and Neil is a horny, lovesick fool. He knows exactly how lucky he is. When he pulls Andrew free of his underwear, they both make faint sounds of want. Andrew’s turns into a hiss through his teeth when Neil leans forward to mouth at him, lacking anything resembling finesse, but at least keeping his teeth out of the equation. His lips are soft against the hot skin of Andrew’s arousal.

Neil glances at Andrew’s knuckles, tight on the end of the mattress. “You can touch me, too, just don’t hold me down,” he tells him, smiling when Andrew shivers at the vibration of his voice. His hands stay carefully clear of Neil’s head, but Neil feels electric at the way Andrew’s fingers dig into his shoulders.

“Wouldn’t,” Andrew grits out.

“I know,” Neil says, then doesn’t have room for words around Andrew’s arousal. He doesn’t get too ambitious with himself, knows gagging would ruin the mood in more ways than one. Still, just his mouth slick around the tip of Andrew’s dick, his hand loose around the rest is enough to have Andrew breathing through his teeth. He’s throbbing hard in Neil’s mouth and, _fuck,_ he absolutely gets how this does it for Andrew. Even on his knees, there’s power here of the most worshipful and benevolent variety. Neil moans softly as he sucks and Andrew grips Neil’s hood in a tight fist, Neil can practically hear his knuckles creaking.

“Neil _,_ ” he gasps out shakily and it makes Neil’s hair stand on end. Andrew is leaking across his tongue and shaking under his hands as Neil looks up at him. “ _Neil,_ ” he repeats, sharper and shattered, a warning.

Neil just hums, anticipation running hot across his skin, he wants it, _he wants it._ He strokes under the head with his tongue, earning a choked breath and the breathtaking sight of Andrew’s eyes falling shut and mouth falling open. A second later his hand lands reverently on the side of Neil’s neck as he comes across Neil’s tongue. Neil doesn’t move until Andrew pushes him back some, eyes still shut and breath still unsteady.

“That was fun,” Neil says, shrugging when Andrew’s eyes slit open to give him a look. “Are you okay?”

“You’re a pipedream,” Andrew tells him, but kisses him before Neil can manage to reply to that.

“Do you need to be alone?” he asks instead as Andrew tucks himself away.

“No,” Andrew says and shifts up to lay out on the bed.

Neil cuts a glance at the chair under the door knob and joins him without putting his pants back on. They lay quietly for a while, not quite touching. Andrew staring at nothing, Neil messing with the run in his stocking, reveling in the slight ache in his jaw.

“Are you gonna show your _boyfriend_?” Andrew asks after a while. The word carries a pointedness, but more like a finger than a knife. Something mocking, not threatening. And actually, Matt may be something in the realm of a boyfriend, but only because whatever this is with Andrew is so much more than the word could ever encompass.

Neil also isn’t sure if he means the stockings or blowjob. “Maybe,” he answers honestly, then thinks about how much Matt likes his legs and the sounds he makes when he comes. “Yes.”

The first definitely, if not the latter.


	3. Matt Stains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foxes for Matt

Figuring out the logistics of wearing them for Matt takes more thought than Neil really cares to admit, even to himself.

The stockings stay shoved in the back of his underwear drawer for weeks, Neil hyper aware of their presence. He doesn’t tell Matt about them, not in the scant time they can steal together, and it feels like a growing pressure. Unpleasant, but only in the sense of impatience. The more he waits the more he _wants_ it. When they’re all heading to the locker room after practice and discussing weekend plans, Neil nearly rolls his eyes at Aaron hesitantly admitting he has a date with Katelyn. But when Allison announces they’re having a girl’s night out and Nicky has an event to attend for a class, Neil feels a flutter in his stomach, realizing Matt is going to have the dorm to himself.

Matt realizes the same thing, apparently, because his eyes subtly find Neil’s, a silent question. Neil takes a breath and feels his face heat, annoyingly, which makes Andrew snort as he shoulders past him. Matt is gentler in his passing, lets his fingers catch Neil’s briefly without even looking.

That night, Andrew is nose deep in a book, seeming content to ignore him until Neil pulls the other pair of stockings out. Now his eyes are flat, blatantly staring. “Not a rabbit anymore?”

“No.” Neil says, full stop, looking at him pointedly. Some things are only for Andrew.

It makes Andrew’s jaw tick. “I hate you.”

“I know.”

“146,” Andrew says and Neil just smiles, doesn’t respond when his luck is up 17%.

Stepping into the stockings still gives him goosebumps, made worse by Andrew’s gaze resting on him heavily. The bright orange foxes stretch up his thighs and Neil shudders, already feeling arousal building in his groin. He grabs his sweat pants, but even the way the soft inside brushes over the fabric makes him fidget. It’s tickling and arousing him; he doesn’t know what to do with that particular combination other than try to ignore it.

Neil’s poker face could really use some work, because when he meets Andrew’s gaze, he looks almost vaguely amused underneath the sneer. “You have a fucking fetish.”

It’s not exactly like Neil’s in a place to argue, half-hard and about to run across the hall to (ideally) get off with his boyfriend.

Dan is coming out of the girl’s room when Neil steps out.

They freeze up there, both wide-eyed for a second, and Neil feels oddly caught, because it’s so _obvious_ , isn’t it? But Allison comes out behind Dan, a flurry of motion and excitement as she breezes over to kiss Neil’s cheek and Rene smiles at him warmly as she follows. Dan blinks back to the present, then kisses his cheek, too, with a laugh. “He's been thinking about you,” she whispers as she’s pulling away. “Have fun.”

Neil thinks nobody in the whole world deserves anyone as good as Dan. Except of course Matt Boyd.

Matt is just happy to see him and Neil is happy to be seen for once.

Being with the Foxes has nudged him slightly past his aversion to being noticed. They notice him, always, on a personal level and it always feels good. Especially nights like tonight when Matt can’t keep the smile off his face or his eyes off Neil. They’re sitting close enough to touch, talking casually on the sofa until Matt’s smile tilts in a way that makes Neil’s stomach swim.

“You look like you want something,” Matt says with a smirk.

Neil wants a lot of things. “I want to show you something,” he says, standing up. “If that’s o—”

“It’s okay,” Matt answers before he can even finish asking, eyes greedy on his body. “What’s up, Neil?”

It makes Neil flash hot, feeling distinctly _wanted_ , when Matt sucks in a steadying breath as Neil’s hands come up to his waistband. There are nerves, because of course there are, but Matt has never been mean-spirited a day in his life and he _likes_ Neil. Neil feels the secret under his clothes—sexy, not dangerous, _sexy_ —making him want Matt’s hands on him so bad he’s throbbing with it.

Neil pushes his pants down and steps out of them. There’s a long breath of silence when he tosses them aside. Long enough for his anxiousness to flee completely.

Where Andrew had been surprised, Matt is _fucking floored._

Matt is staring at him all wide-eyed and slack jawed, the tips of his ears burning a sudden, bright red.

Even from the first time, when they were just stumbling into this thing mouth first in the locker room, Matt couldn’t hide how much he’d liked his legs, didn’t bother to try. More than once, Neil has seen him looking, only to smile sheepishly and shrug when caught. More than once, Matt’s gone as far as to touch him, leaving him shock-hot and a little turned on without being able to do a thing about it. Andrew can make fun of Neil for his stocking fetish all he wants; it plays right into Matt’s apparent leg fetish.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Matt chokes out like he doesn’t even mean to say it.

Neil arches up onto the balls of his feet, then sinks back down and lifts his toes. “Thought you might like them,” he says, looking down at himself, half turning so his ass is pointed to Matt.

In an instant, Matt jumps to his feet. Neil thinks he’s about to get _mauled_ , but Matt just comes over slow and a little stunned. “Can I touch you?”

Yes, all sorts of yeses, all sorts of softly-spoken, slow moving, sweet yeses.

Matt’s hands are hot on Neil’s waist when he pulls him into a kiss, immediately deep and wanting. Neil shivers in his grip as Matt’s hands trail down to cup his ass, fingers tickling at the crook of his thigh. It’s a marvel, still, to be able to touch each other this way, so Neil doesn’t hesitate to get his hands under Matt’s shirt. Matt’s abs jerk with laughter when Neil runs his fingers across his stomach. Agreeably, Matt lifts his arms to let Neil take his shirt off and, _shit_ , Matt’s so fucking ripped it’s unfair. He kisses his pecs because they’re right in his face and he can’t think of a single reason not to. Matt’s breath stutters in his chest, goosebumps rolling across his skin when Neil puts his mouth on his nipples.

“Neil,” he breathes out sharply, softly. His hand strokes up Neil’s spine and Neil opens his mouth at the feeling, just breathing against Matt’s skin. “Let me take it off?”

Neil feels a tumble of nerves stagger his heartbeat, but Matt has kind hands and genuinely wants him after everything. He pulls back when Matt’s fingers land under his chin, tipping his head back. He looks hazy with lust and bright with love and Neil’s heart is going to break right out of his ribs. “You sure?”

“Yes, _God,_ Neil, you look so pretty for me,” Matt says and the words streak hot through Neil’s core. Matt kisses him sweetly, strokes a thumb over his cheek. “Let me show you.”

Nodding, Neil raises his hands on faith, because he can’t think of a single reason not to believe in Matt. “Yeah, ok, Mattie,” he says and doesn’t know what to do with the gratitude on Matt’s face.

The shirt comes off and Neil doesn’t mean to stand like a stiff, but can’t quite relax until Matt’s hands stroke down his arms. There is a flicker of pain on Matt’s face—Matt loves him and will never look past what he suffered, at the very least not yet—but it doesn’t kill everything else. It doesn’t drain the heat from his face or the lust from his eyes, doesn’t keep him from wetting his lips before he leans down to kiss Neil’s bare shoulder. Neil sighs with relief and desire when Matt kisses across his skin to the faint hickey Andrew had left on his collarbone the night before.

“I am so fucking lucky,” Matt says and Neil fills with the kind of warmth he’d never felt before he joined this team. “You’re beautiful, Neil.”

Neil doesn’t snort, only because he knows from the bottom of his heart that Matt absolutely believes it. “You make me feel beautiful. _Hey,_ ” he laughs when Matt stoops some to pick him up only to fall back onto the couch with Neil over his lap. The laugh turns breathless when Matt’s hands slide back to his ass, squeezing and lifting. Neil’s toes scrunch and he leans forward instinctively, bringing Matt’s mouth back to his chest. He’s never had his scars kissed like this before, finds it nearly brings tears to his eyes. When Matt’s tongue laves over his nipple, he threads his fingers into his curls before dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Mattie.”

“I like when you call me that,” Matt mumbles against his chest, tipping his head back to look him in the face. He pulls at Neil’s hips until they’re crotch to crotch, both groaning at the feeling. “ _Fuck,_ listen to you…”

Neil is shuddering all over, Matt’s hands slipping in the sweat on his back as he grinds down onto him. The feeling of Matt’s erection swelling against his has him moving without thought, his hand sliding around Matt’s shoulder, down his chest. “Can I…?” He hesitates.

“Whatever you want, baby,” Matt urges. He’s hot, his heart pounding under Neil’s palms. “Go ahead, it’s okay.”

Neil feels embarrassment prickle down his neck, but he makes himself form the words. “I want to…” He gasps a little, pleasure scuttling up his back when Matt spreads his leg, changing the angle of their cocks together. He bites his lip, breathing out shakily when Matt kisses him. “I want to be on top.”

“Fucking _shit_ yeah,” Matt breathes out.

It’s not quite natural to Neil yet, moving over another person like this, but when he pushes at Matt’s shoulder and he slides down easily to lay on the sofa, his mouth nearly goes dry. Matt reclines easily, mouth open and eyes slits, settled under Neil’s weight on his hips. When Neil teasingly grinds his ass down on Matt’s cock, he groans sharply, bucking up so hard Neil has to catch himself on his chest. The position isn’t what he’s used to, but he adjusts himself until the swell of their cocks are riding right up against each other. Matt’s hands come up to his waist, guiding. They figure out the motion easily enough from there.

“Fuck, Mattie,” Neil whispers as he grinds down, feeling like there’s nearly nothing between them. He realizes there doesn’t have to be. “You wanna come on me?”

Matt has never been a man Neil would imagine _whimpering_ , but even when he strangles the sound into something like a growl, there’s no mistaking what it started out as. “Yeah, baby boy, please, _fuck,_ gonna make me come on your pretty pantyhose, you’re _mine_ tonight.”

Neil can’t even get his brain in order enough to respond to that. His hands are shaking when he pulls Matt’s sweats down, freeing his hard cock. Shirtless and with his pants around his thighs, cock dark and drooling against his hip, Matt looks like a perfect picture of _lust_. Neil—suddenly and for the first time—understands why someone might actually look at porn, if it makes them feel even _an ounce_ of what the real thing does. Neil would jerk off over this exact image, in fucking _poster_ form if he could get it.

As it stands, he has something better than a skin mag.

When Neil takes Matt in hand Matt moans softly and props up on one elbow, the other arm wrapping around Neil’s shoulders. He falls back flat again when Neil holds their cocks lined up for him to rock down into Matt, separated only by sticky-slick nylon, rolling his hips like he would if they were _actually_ fucking. Wrapped in Matt’s arms, Neil’s breathing picks up until he’s panting into Matt’s mouth.

“Sound so good for me,” Matt tells him, sounding strained and shaky. “Fuck, you get me there so fast…”

Neil doesn’t bother to hold back the weak sound that bubbles up at that. His stockings are sodden between them, rubbing silky smooth against his arousal, doing nothing to keep back the feeling of Matt hot and throbbing against him. Tipping his head down against Matt’s shoulder gives him a perfect view of Matt’s cock alongside his, shiny with evidence of their combined arousal.

It’s fucking hot and Neil feels the end rushing up to meet him. He clenches his eyes shut, gasping “ _I’m gonna come_ ” before setting his teeth in Matt’s shoulder.

Matt must like that—the bite or the words, who cares—because his legs close around Neil’s waist then, grinding up frantically, throwing his head back. “ _Neil!_ ”

Just like that, within a split second of each other, they’re coming between their bodies, clinging tightly. Matt is still panting out Neil’s name softly, Neil moaning with Matt’s shoulder in his mouth. Eventually they sag together, Matt’s hand stroking through Neil’s hair as Neil sighs contentedly, kissing his throat.

“Why are you so good to me?” Neil mumbles softly, kissing up to Matt’s ear.

Chuckling, Matt turns to press a lingering kiss to Neil’s temple. “That’s all I ever want to be to you.”

It’s a stingingly sweet thought that makes Neil sit up just so he can take in the soft look on Matt’s face before he kisses him. The motion draws their attention back to the sticky situation between them.

Showering together has become as much of a routine as they can have in this, but Neil finds he likes it, this overlap between his boys. A lot of his first brushes with intimacy happened in the shower and now—Matt laughing and squirting his shampoo into Neil’s hair—Neil thinks for once, he likes being predictable.

Leaving his stockings soaking in the bathroom sink, Neil slips back into his sweat pants and follows Matt into the living room, equally shirtless. Matt flops down onto the couch with a sigh, smiling as he stretches out to take up almost all the space.

Neil raises his eyebrows. There’s an armchair off to the side, but he doubts that’s what Matt’s implying with that move. “Got room for me?”

“Of course,” Matt answers, but doesn’t move out of the way. He just opens his arms. “I kinda like you on top.”

Butterflies are a stupid feeling, but Neil gets them when he crawls back onto the couch to lay against Matt’s chest, his arm warm around him. “What are we watching?”

“Star Wars,” Matt answers, as he fiddles with the remote. “You gotta be up to date on your pop culture, man.”

Neil had mostly tuned out Matt’s argument with Wymack about which movie they’re supposed to start with, so he has no clue if this is the first one or not. That said he also isn’t sure he’s going to pay very much attention with Matt’s heartbeat lulling him to sleep under his ear.

If worse comes to worse, he figures, he can come over and try again another night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading…it doesn’t matter if it’s silly if it makes you happy!
> 
> Also, as always, _**fuck**_ gender norms, do you, doll.
> 
> Hey, I remembered to do a fic rec this time. For your continued Matt/Neil enjoyment:
> 
> [touch me in the dark, and quiet these thoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16551959) by AkumaStrife ❤


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